


Just A Little Reasonable Worry

by Tezca



Series: Reasonable Concern [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Minor Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), The Second Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezca/pseuds/Tezca
Summary: Aziraphale fearing the worst, he goes to Anathema for help.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Reasonable Concern [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942873
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: GO-Events POV Pairs Works





	Just A Little Reasonable Worry

It was embarrassing really, just absolutely embarrassing with a capital E. Dreadfully horrible that Aziraphale had to go and make a mess of things by jumping to conclusions. Oh he should’ve known Crowley was never the type of person to suddenly make a whiplash into an actual, malevolent demonic being that wanted the Earth to be nothing but a big battlefield to hunt down angels. 

Was this understandable or did he overreact like he was some hyper paranoid mess he wondered. Sure it all came from a place of a healthy dose of awareness that allowed him to not fully forget any possible future attacks. But that was no reason to live his life with a tinfoil hat so to speak, full of unfounded fear over a non-existent reality. Azirapahle wasn’t sure but the exasperated, put upon look on Crowley’s face told him he might’ve been a tad too insecure about things. Not that it wasn’t a bad thing entirely, but being on edge over the idea of a teamed up Heaven and Hell against humanity had the risk of random bouts of increased paranoia.

All of this for nothing. He should’ve realized right off the bat that Crowley had just simply planned an exquisite anniversary dinner as a surprise. That piece of the puzzle would’ve connected had he realized that it was August. The 20th of said month was the day they officially declared themselves husbands for all intents and purposes without any hesitation. Well more on Aziraphale's side, Crowley would’ve happily admitted they might as well be married ever since their first meeting. 

(It was also the day around the time they stopped the Apocalypse and saved Earth from straight up, merciless destruction.)

Aziraphale laughed, timid and awkward. He was full of nerves right at this very moment, he was sure Crowley wasn’t going to be in an entirely good mood now. Oh what if the demon decided this was enough, realized that he was a mess. Too full of deep seated insecurities that apparently didn’t go away completely much to his annoyance. 

“Why don’t we just forget this...dreadful misunderstanding and enjoy the lovely dinner you made,” Aziraphale said, just behind Crowley he can see the dinner laid out so wonderfully on the table. The delicious aroma wafted on over and tempted him to just walk around Crowley and start eating. But he didn’t have it in him to be so brazenly rude, especially since, by the look on Crowley’s look, the demon wasn’t finished yet. 

Crowley crossed his arms, there was a slight tinge of hurt in his voice. It was understandable and Aziraphale felt he rightly deserved it. He did spend the past few days with Anathema playing Spy on Crowley. The angel let out a regretful sigh. 

“Yeah sounds like a great plan, we could...but I still have questions to ask-” Crowley replied, he stood frustratingly between Aziraphale and the succulent food. He did appear to be mollified enough by how apologetic he was so that was good. 

(Something of note was that Crowley snapped to keep the food at the right hot temperature for as long as needed. He knew Aziraphale was a food lover. Thus the angel would get impatient the longer he was kept from whatever delicacies awaited to be eaten.)

“-Like how on God’s bloody green Earth did you come to the conclusion that I would ever willingly work for Hell?” Crowley asked with his arms crossed. Dinner was clearly not gonna happen until they had this conversation.

Aziraphale let out another nervous chuckle as he looked everywhere but Crowley. Finally though, he kicked his mind into gear to forget about the food - as hard as it was - and divert his mental energy onto the answer.

The angel took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he looked up at Crowley. He opened his mouth.   
____________________

“Oh please pick up, it is of the most utmost importance.” Aziraphale whined to himself under his breath. He had dialed Anathema’s number his - quite frankly too old for its own good - rotary phone. Only reason it still worked was because of Magical Expectations. Well ok, a large part of it might be due to the connection it still had into the phones of London.

(Much to the consternation of Crowley, the rotary phone was one of the items Azirapahle insisted he bring over and installed at the cottage. As if now, his bookshop now more or less functioned as a storage place for all of his precious books. He really had hated the idea of selling the bookshop. Plus he had planned to go back if he wanted to be extra alone to read for a few hours. Which ended up not being all that much in practice, he ended up going back and forth in order to search for a particular book.)

Anyways, that doesn't matter. What did matter was that Aziraphale had been trying to call Anathema for the last five or so minutes. Which wasn’t too long of a time, especially to an immortal. Thing was he felt just enough impatience for it to feel longer than it actually was. The minutes had just felt like it dragged on for an hour and it would suddenly be midnight before he knew it. 

Right now he felt oh so blessedly happy that he had a friend that can help with something like this. No other human could, and even if he could find some other human witch, Anathema had the distinct factor of having witnessed the Almost End of Days on the front lines. 

Which meant, in a more poetic way, Anathema had more of a familiar bond with him and Crowley.

Finally on the last ring the phone was picked up and an apologetic American accented voice came through. It washed over Aziraphale in great relief and he was able to breath more easily, less tense now that he might not have to deal with this conundrum alone.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear the ring until now, made the stupid mistake of rewatching season 5 of Supernatural today...just finished the finale,” Aziraphale heard Anathema ramble on slightly apologetically. 

“Oh that’s quite alright my dear,” Aziraphale said absented-mindedly. The sooner they get to why he called, the better. Who knew how much time they had before Heaven and Hell make their move, “I just desperately need your help.”

“Sure, what do you need?” Came the calm, helpful voice on the other end.

“Well, for starters I feel like I should tell you in person,” Aziraphale admitted as he took a cautious look towards the front door. As if Crowley would walk in at any minute. This had to be discrete and Crowley was the last person he wanted to run into at this moment. That realization had caused his gut to fall into a crushed pit of despair, “I don’t think this is something that should be discussed over the phone my dear.”

______________________________

Anathema placed a cup of tea in front of Aziraphale before she sat down with her own cup. She had taken the liberty of putting on the kettle to make some while she waited for Aziraphale to arrive. 

“I should forewarn you, the tea may still not be up to British standards as Newt puts it,” Anathema chuckled, her fingers wrapped around the warm white decorated cup.

Aziraphale took a sip as he dismissed her concerns with an reassured smile, “It tastes quite decent enough. I say you’re adapting quite well.”

“Thanks,” She gave a friendly smile before she moved on, “So I assume the problem is that big?” Anathema had leaned forward a little bit. A curious expression over her face. 

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid so. Though I don’t know what exactly, either they want to restart the Apocalypse or both sides want to team up and attack humanity. My best guess is most likely the latter.”

Anathema’s eyes widened as she sat back up, her gaze serious and worried, “Neither sounds any good.”

“Precisely. And not only that, but I have reasons to think my dear Crowley may be involved.” Aziraphale explained, his anxiety levels up a notch. He, of course, wished this wasn’t reality. The fact that he came to suspect Crowley of things that went against what he knew about the demon. He really didn’t want to believe it, but he can’t deny the suspicious activity he had done as of late.

That said, he still fiercely hoped he was wrong. He would greatly welcome it as it meant Crowley was indeed still the one he knew for 6000 years. 

“Crowley?! What makes you think that?” Anathema was understandably skeptical as she sat up straighter in her chair. That was to be expected to be honest. Even he was still skeptical and partway into denial over whether this was really happening.

Aziraphale took another sip in order to take the second to gather his thoughts. He knew what to say, but oh where to start? He didn’t want to sound like an utterly disjointed mess. He had to speak clearly and without as much nerves as he possibly could. Which for him, he probably wasn’t doing a good job, “He started acting...strange. Before he would readily agree to go on spontaneous outings but lately he’d been turning down the offers. And what’s more? He acted nervous, as if he had something to hide.”

Anathema nodded to indicate she followed along. Aziraphale continued, satisfied with her reaction, “He would tell me to take the afternoon off, which isn’t strange in and itself. We’ve taken small amounts of time away from each other before. It was just...this time he had made the suggestion that I go off to the local library in conjecture with his uncharacteristic behavior.”

“I see.”

“Yes and when I would ask what he was up to when I came back, he would dance around the topic. Then he’d move onto another subject. It’s been like this for the last two days.”

“Hmm,” Anathema thought for half a minute. She stared down at her cup before she looked back up at Aziraphale, a determined look in her eyes, “How can I help? I can do some locator spells on Crowley.”

“Well err, for starters did your ancestor happen to have any prophecies about anything after we stopped Armageddon? I figure we can start there.”

Aziraphale felt his hopes rise up before it took a sudden dive. It came and went just as fast as...as him eating sushi or something sweet. The reason for this was Anathema abruptly had an expression of blood drained horror mixed in with great regret. Oh silly him to entertain the notion that even a part of this can be solved relatively quickly. 

Aziraphale listened to Anathema explain the honest truth, about how she had received a second set of prophecies shortly after and subsequently decided to burn it all up without a glance. She didn’t want to be beholden to someone’s instructions on what to do with her life. As if she was a prisoner of war stuck in a house with her captor with nothing to do but to follow orders. The moment she burned the manuscript was the moment she was figuratively extracted to freedom. 

The angel rested his hands over one of hers and gave a reassured smile, “It’s alright dear Anathema. Since you said it first, it is admittedly a disappointment,” Aziraphale said with a mild hint of resignation, “But completely understandable all the same. It is what it is and we’ll just have to find another way.”  
_______________

The locator spell pointed the way back to the South Downs cottage. Anathema offered to come with him to help in case this was a matter of great betrayal and Aziraphale had agreed. More strengths in numbers and all that. Plus when Anathema told him she’d gotten better with her witchy powers, the angel felt more at ease that they have a higher fighting chance. Still, the majority of him hoped that that wouldn't come to pass.

It saddened him to think of the possibility that if his worry was indeed a reality, then he may have to face him not as lovers, but as foes.

The reality of things was still not clear, Aziraphale felt confused more than anything at this moment. And an increased surge of hope that maybe his worries were unfounded. Especially when they peeked through the window and noticed nothing amiss except plates full of food, candles and flowers on the table. Which Crowley - with his back towards the window - had just finished setting up.

There was a fleeting thought that it could be an ambush. Aziraphale and Anathema ducked down out of sight lest Crowley turned around and spotted them. Aziraphale proceeded to close his eyes and pushed out his angelic grace over a good ten miles radius, no signs of any other demons. Anathema practically did the same with a spell that allowed her to see if there were any other beings, human or otherwise, around. She shook her head, all she got was the next door neighbor who had apparently taken his cue from Crowley to yell at their own plants in a fit of misdirected anger.

So nothing was awry after all. It sure seemed that way more and more. No demons, no signs of malevolent activity, absolutely nothing to suggest something untoward was about to happen. Just green grass and the nearby ocean underneath the summer blue sky of his personal paradise.

“We’re idiots!” Anathema exclaimed beside him not even a minute later, the abruptness jostled him out of his thoughts. 

Aziraphale felt confused as he immediately faced her, “What do you mean by that?” He noticed she was looking at the calendar on her phone. It read ‘Aug 20th, 2024’.

Anathema faced him just then with mutual realization between the two of them. Aziraphale felt like the biggest fool in the world just now, it was his fourth year anniversary with Crowley. Of course the demon would want to plan a surprise romantic dinner to commemorate the special occasion!

Aziraphale felt another jolt of realization up his spine. He pushed his back off the wall of the house and sat up ramrod straight, his eyes wide, “Wait that also means your anniversary with Newt is tomorrow isn’t it?”

“Oh crap…” Anathema replied just as the front door opened, “I

“What the bloody hell are you two doing?” Crowley asked, equal parts surprised and perplexed.

Aziraphale gasped, “Crowley! How-” 

“I still have my demonic sense angel,” Crowley deadpanned.  
_________________________

After an explanation and Crowley teleporting Anathema back to Jasmine Cottage, Aziraphale was ushered in. And now one short five minute long story later, the air fell into silence. Aziraphale couldn’t bear to see Crowley’s reaction so he stared absentmindedly at his chest. He had to be peeved about this whole mess.

After a few seconds Aziraphale hazard an apologetic look sent Crowley’s way, “I really am so sorry my dear Crowley, I don’t know what came over me to overworry like that.”

Crowley looked at him for another few seconds before finally he let all the tension leave his body. He let out an exasperated breath with no real heavy bite to it. It was more affectionate and patience than not, even though Aziraphale felt like he should’ve rightfully sounded more annoyed. 

“It’s not like it's anything new,” Crowley mumbled half heartedly before he loosen his arms to his side and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look I’ll be honest, I’m still a little...miffed that you jumped to conclusions like that. But...”

Azirapahle waited for a few seconds to pass before he encouraged him to continue, “But what Crowley?” 

“I suppose I can see why you might’ve been concerned. I mean to be fair in hindsight I did turn down that offer to go do that wine tasting thing. Me turning down alcohol, that’s just absurd.”

Aziraphale laughed lightly, “Not as strange as if I had turned down a chance to eat food.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the POV Pair event on the GO Events server


End file.
